Tears in the dark
by El loopy
Summary: 'Seymour found her in the room where they did the flower arrangements. It was her favourite place to be and he knew she'd probably be needing it right now.' Set pre-musical. A little moment between Seymour and Audrey. One-sided Seymour x Audrey.


Tears in the dark

Seymour found her in the room where they did the flower arrangements. It was her favourite place to be and he knew she'd probably be needing it right now.

He'd never been to a funeral before…never been invited to one anyway…he didn't know if he'd been at his parents', had never thought to ask. There had been lots of pale faces and voices choked with tears. He had walked away feeling drained and he hadn't really even _known_ Audrey's Mom. Audrey herself had disappeared pretty quickly afterwards. An unfamiliar man had spoken to her and she'd looked…he couldn't place the look…and then she'd been gone. He'd known where though. It was the one place where he wanted to be too.

As he entered though he wondered if he'd got it wrong. The lights were off and the room was dark. He knocked lightly on the door, whispering, "Audrey?" and then felt silly for doing it. He was about to turn away when he heard a sharp, stifled, little sob.

"Audrey?" he ventured in, using his memory to guide him around obstacles, never thinking to turn the light on. His eyes grew accustomed to the gloom. He could smell the aroma of fresh flowers. A little light filtered through the windows from any unbroken streetlamps on Skid row but neither that nor his memory of the room saved him from crashing into a table. He gave a yelp of pain.

"Seymour?" The voice was stained with tears and he finally spotted her sat on a chair in the corner, surrounded by flowers, as immersed in their beauty and life as she could be. "Seymour, what are you doing?"

"L-looking for you Audrey," he managed to stammer out, her name still so beautiful to say, "you shouldn't be alone right now.

"Oh Seymour," and then she was crying again, wracking sobs that shook her body.

Seymour stepped closer and then pulled up short, fluttering nervously. Convention, he believed, was a comforting arm around the shoulder, or a hug, but he'd never even touched Audrey before and didn't know if he could, even now.

"Please don't cry Audrey," was what he settled for, "it'll be okay. You have the apartment still and Mr Mushnik has said you can work here proper. Full time..."

Audrey took a few deep breaths, until the flow of tears slowed. Dear, sweet Seymour, trying to cheer her up. The orphan would never know the pain of losing a parent, no matter how dysfunctional the relationship.

"I'm real grateful to Mr Mushnik, and you too Seymour. It sure was nice of Mr Mushnik to do all the flowers for the funeral and for you to arrange them."

Seymour half-blushed but it was hidden in the darkness.

"Anything for you, Audrey."

He heard her take a steadying breath, the type you take to lock tears up behind a gate. The gate was never very sturdy but it would hold for a few moments.

"Well, I'd best be going…"

She got to her feet and he stumbled back a step, out of her way.

"Let me get a light for you…"

Her hand grasped his arm to halt him.

"Oh no! I must look awful. Don't. I'll just go back to my place without anyone seeing."

"Will you be okay?" He was going to offer to keep her company but it was just too much, and her hand, still on his arm, was making his mind go all melty.

"Me? Oh I'll be fine."

She acted impulsively, casting her arms around him in a short, sharp hug of comfort, letting the edge of her loneliness be sipped off the top of an almost full cup. Seymour froze beneath her arms, every muscle locked, unable to return the embrace, his mind momentarily blank of all thoughts. It was only a beat before she let him go.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Seymour."

"O-oh, but you shouldn't be coming in Audrey. Mr Mushnik said…"

"I don't want to just sit around and do nothing," she said quietly, "I'll be too sad. I'll see you tomorrow."

"S-sure. Bright and early."

She clipped out of the flower shop, homeward, almost completely a part of the darkness in her black funeral dress.

She thought about all the things she couldn't say. All her small secrets. Dear, sweet Seymour, who believed that the job in the flower shop was enough to sustain her – and it would in her heart, the little patch of green – but not financially. She couldn't bring herself to tell him that she couldn't take the day off to mourn because she couldn't afford to. Her hand slipped into her pocket and felt the rough edge of the torn scrap of paper with an address on it. Nor would the job at the flower shop alone pay her rent. She remembered the sly, sleek grin of the shark at the funeral, her Mom's old boss, telling her that they were hiring for girls like her, and they had an opening. Handing her the note, knowing she had no choice but to accept. 'The Gutter'. She felt her stomach clench and the tears burn, but there was no use crying over what couldn't be changed. Seymour's face floated unbidden to her mind, disappointed and crushed. She imagined the way he would look at her differently and shut her eyes a second, shaking her head. One thing was for sure; he must never know.


End file.
